


Love me, as if there were no tomorrow.

by spectralspices



Category: Fallout: New Vegas, Homestuck
Genre: F/F, There's A Murder Or Two In This One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectralspices/pseuds/spectralspices
Summary: A present for @remadra on tumblr! Bappy Hirthday! Also, yes, Nepeta's tribe is based around Warrior Cats. Also-sorry Gamzee and Eridan fans but I couldn't think of any better villains for a story centering around these two wonderful gals than The Literal People Who Murdered Them. Whups.





	Love me, as if there were no tomorrow.

“I’m gonna make you  _ BLEED _ , kitty cat!!” The raider, clad in a random connection of Brahmin leather, metal junk, and most of a tire on one shoulder, made his best attempt at a taunt before the first attack was let loose. He had a foot on this girl, and she looked pretty scrawny-his trusty, rusty tire iron would probably take her out in one hit, then his gang would have her AND the other one for...well, whatever they wanted! Hostage, slave,  _ MEAL _ !

But then his view shifted. He was flying back, but he couldn’t feel anything. Something had...hit him? With a thud, he landed, facing a headless body that was standing up, wearing his clothes, holding his favourite tire iron and…

That was his body, wasn’t it?

And the short girl in the trench coat and pre-war hat had just...punched his entire head off his body with one of those weird deathclaw gauntlets she was wearing. As the last synapses fired, desperately processing the fact that he was dead before he actually died, Nepeta Leijon-No, Courier 33-launched into combat to defend her package against the rest of the petty-ante raiders that had tried to ambush them. 

Just another day working for the Mojave Express. 

But, well, you must’ve noticed that “other one” comment, yes?

That’s the wrinkle that made this day unlike the others. She wasn’t delivering a package. She was delivering a girl. 

Feferi Peixes gasped, clutching her pearl-handled revolver in both hands, wearing a dress nicer than any Nepeta had ever seen and filling it out rather well. As the Courier performed a sweeping kick to the closest raider and prepared to slash the next, her ear caught something beneath all the violence and half-assed, drugged out taunts. 

“Y-You can do it!” 

She was being cheered on...to murder the five-scratch that, four-outlaws with shitty guns and cobbled together melee weapons. 

Man, rich people were weird. 

 

That night, as they sat at the fire Nepeta had built, the heiress adjusted her dress slightly awkwardly. Then Nepeta began frying some mirelurk steak in her pan over the fire, and she saw that Feferi was checking the safety and cleaning her revolver. As she added some spices, Feferi started rolling a nearby rock back and forth on the small boulder she was sitting on. 

“Anything you, uh...wanna-”

“You were  _ INCREDIBLE!!! _ ” 

Nepeta found herself rolling her eyes, leaning back as the meat fried. “Nah. Cats are amazing. The girls on the strip are amazing. The amount of stuff I’ve heard of Courier 6 surviving is amazing. I’m just a killer doing delivery work.” 

“See? That right there! That...that grizzled wasteland charm! I’ve never met anyone like you...you’re amazing.” 

Nepeta was glad Feferi couldn’t see her face at that moment...because she was blushing through the biggest grin she could manage. 

 

The way the two had met was common for Couriers. It was part of the reason they didn’t get as big a salary as one would expect from the kind of people who can make cross-wasteland deliveries consistently-The Sidejobs. Clients, upon receiving their packages, would often offer them other jobs. Kill this animal, search that place, gather somesuch and whatever, talk this kid outta that or that guy into this. And, on occasion...Kill This Raider and Escort This Person. More specifically, she was tasked by Meenah Peixes to “Krill” the “Motherfuckin’ shit ‘outta that Junkie Piece Of Shit Clownfucker”, and to “Take my stupid lil’ guppy sister to New Vegas so Mom can deal with her shit ‘cuz I’m done.” 

And she was getting paid 2500 caps for this. But the thing was, the Peixes Seafood Company Headquarters was on the opposite end of the Mojave, stationed at the widest part of the river. Nepeta had trudged her way there to deliver a brand new component for their machinery and had been cornered by Meenah...and she HAD planned to say no, as all she wanted to do was go home and take a week off.

But then she saw Feferi and couldn’t help but want to spend time with her. She was so cute!! And...sheltered, as Nepeta learned quickly after setting out. 

She fainted when she saw her first Radscorpion. 

The trip both took longer and felt longer than it should’ve. 

 

That night, as they lay in the tent (Feferi had demanded privacy to change into a purple nightgown Nepeta had to force herself not to look at while Nepeta simply kept her normal clothes on), Feferi pushed a finger into her curly hair and twisted it slowly. 

“Hey...can I ask you...a question…?”

Nepeta slowly stretched. “Nyeah, sure.” 

“Where are you from? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as amazing as you…” The way she said that made Nepeta blush, and she was glad for the dim light of her pipboy for not letting Feferi see that. 

“Ahh...it’s nothing “amazing”. I was born in a tribe, a pretty peaceful one out in the north. We have these texts, about joy and hope and brutality and violence...about these Cats that are also Warriors.”

“And they’re about...all that stuff?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’ve talked to some Ghouls, and apparently there were just books that were made back before the war-but we haven’t had the original texts for generations, so oral tradition and attempts to write it all down in a way that made sense lead to a lot of changes.”

“Oh, that’s terrible!” Feferi’s face turned sour. 

“What is?” Nepeta hopped up, slightly sad that they’d shifted off of how Cool and Amazing she was. 

“Well...doesn’t it...Doesn’t it feel bad knowing all your tribe’s legends are based around a bunch of fiction that wasn’t even important before the war?! I’d HATE that!”

Nepeta leaned back on her hands, sighing slightly as she considered. “I mean...it’s important to us now. Who cares if someone made it up? It’s not where something comes from, it’s what it does.” 

Feferi got quiet at that, nodding silently. “I...sometimes I worry about where things come from a little too much.”

“...Anything else? Wanna know who taught me how to fight? Or hear about my parents?” 

“I...yes, but I’m a bit too tired for tonight. Let’s talk in the morning.” 

“Sounds good.” With that, she flipped the light off, and they both got to sleeping.

 

Until Nepeta’s eyes snapped open. She had been sleeping on her back, out of the one bag they had for Feferi. It had been a cold breeze wafting in-and the mumbling of a third party. Her eyes slowly moved to the side, staring at the hunched humanoid figure as it seem to be inspecting Feferi, murmuring and clutching a large club in one hand. This must’ve been another one of those raider fucks that they’d missed! Moving quickly, Nepeta slipped behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and hefted backwards, performing a german suplex that she let go of halfway through to get him out of the tent. Feferi jolted up, babbling fearfully. “W-WHAT’S GOING ON?!” 

“Just a straggler, stay calm!” She hurried out, donning her twin Deathclaw Gauntlets and flipping her light on. Now that he was getting up and the light was on, Nepeta realized this guy must’ve been around six foot six, and he was holding two juggling pins, and had wild and curly hair and he had clown makeup. 

He was some kind of...fucker that was also, apparently, a clown.

Oh, wait, this was Clownfucker.

“Heyyy…” His voice was raspy, as if he’d just swallowed distilled pepper juice and sand. And, like, thirty inhalers of Jet. 

“...Hi.” Nepeta stayed ready to fight, with her stance low and guard on. All of this despite Clownfucker’s standing stance being that of a sloth being hung by his armpits after being sedated. 

“Sent some of my guys down here to scare up some grub...an’ they never came back.” He suddenly snapped his own neck at a right angle, cracking it rather horribly. 

“ **AND THEN I FIND YOU TWO MOTHERFUCKERS SLEEPING NOT FIFTEEN MOTHERFUCKING FEET FROM WHERE THEY’RE DOIN’ THE BEST FERTILIZER IMPRESSION THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS EVER SEEN.** ” His unnatural posture and incredible increase in volume gave even Nepeta a slight jolt. This guy...was fucked up. 

He returned his neck to the natural position of before, speaking quietly once again. “So I decide to take a look, and what do I see? A little kitten bitch and her pretty little pearl. I was thinking of smacking some collars on you two and selling you to those crazy sons’abitches over in the legion...till I recognized who you two up and were.” His arms lifted, and where Nepeta anticipated an attack, he simply began to toss the clubs up, juggling them without moving anything past his arms. 

“She looks a lot like that  **BITCH** Meenah Peixes. Gonna bet she’s her little sister Feferi. And I’m gonna bet even if she’s a treacherous  **WHORE** who refuses to honor a deal with a  **REASONABLE AND TRUSTWORTHY BUSINESSMAN** like myself, she’ll shell out real caps to get her little sister back home and safe before big ol’mama can catch wind that she fucked up. And I’m thinkin’ I’ll send chunks of you to her to prove that I ain’t  **JOKING** .” 

Nepeta made a mental note to ask Meenah what the hell he was talking about after this job. Or, really, demand it from her under threat of “I can kill you before your guards get involved, why did you put your sister in danger she’s too precious”. Suddenly, Clownfucker caught both clubs and whooped like the madman he was, making a swing for Nepeta’s head. She blocked it and followed up with a counter punch she’d learned from a very nice lesbian who lived in a trading post, slashing up across Clownfucker’s bare chest. The blood that oozed from his wounds didn’t seem to be missed as he continued his assault, every swing going wider than the wasteland itself. She was having a rather easy time of it-at least, until he suddenly let go of one club, grabbing her right wrist and smacking the other club across her head, dazing her rather badly. As her vision began to focus again, she watched as he dragged her claws across his face, feeling her heart racing in fear. He was scarring himself….for no fucking reason. And he was going to either murder her here and kidnap Feferi, or torture her for weeks and then kill her...and still kidnap Feferi. 

The Wasteland Sucked. 

And then there was a deafening  **POP** , and Clownfucker straighted out. There was a hole in his left side, now, and as Nepeta let her head turn slightly, she saw Feferi clutching that beautiful revolver of hers, the barrel smoking as she gave the most determined glare that Nepeta had ever seen. 

Clownfucker gasped and let go of Nepeta’s sprained wrist, both hands moving up to clutch and claw at the place his person-meat had been a moment ago. 

“Muh-muh...my name...w-was...G-Ga...ghh...Nnh.” His final words cut short, the man who would only be remembered as Clownfucker fell back, bleeding out into the dry earth of the Mojave like so many had before him. 

Nepeta stood, looking to Feferi...and then tackling her back into the tent. 

“Aaah!!”

“That was fur-icking GREAT!! You saved my life!! That was AMAZING shooting, Fef! YOU’RE Amazing!” She laughed and hugged her close, but soon stopped when she noticed that the Heiress wasn’t laughing. “Oh, wait, shit. Was that the first guy you ever killed? Beclaws, thanks, don’t feel bad, he was a monster that was gonna do awful stuff to both of us.” 

She blinked a few times, just staring at Nepeta’s face in a way that made her feel uneasy. 

“Can you purr-lease just say something so-” 

She was interrupted by a locking of lips as Feferi darted down, kissing her in a way that was...so  _ soft. _ Nepeta let her eyes slowly shut, moving her lips against Feferi’s as they kissed, wrapping her arms around her as the makeout extended for ten...fifteen...thirty seconds. When they finally both came up for air, Feferi was the only one that spoke. 

“Please...Love me...as if there was no tomorrow.” 

 

As they stepped into the office building in the nicest parts of New Vegas, Nepeta gave Feferi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Their journey had taken another week since that fateful night, and in that time, they’d both learned quite a lot. How abusive Feferi’s mother was. How hard Nepeta had to fight to make a life for herself before she got her job. How scared Feferi was of becoming like the monster that had controlled her entire life up until then. How Nepeta’s first kill was at nine and she’d only moved on from there. If one were to look at the scene from our time, you’d see what looked like an average office building. Men and women in suits and ties bustling about, sharing reports, sitting at desks and typing away at oddly archaic computers. The woman at the front desk glanced up, before snapping to attention as she realized that the woman before her was Feferi Peixes and that she should really not be leaning on the desk. 

“Oh!! You’re here! Would you like to see your mother now?”

“Yes. But I’m bringing Nepeta.”

“Oh, that’s not-”

Feferi smiled warmly and quirked her head to the side. “Did you not hear me? I’m bringing my friend with me.”

The secretary blinked twice while forcing her smile even harder, swiveled on her heel, and walked away with a chipper “Right this way, ma’am!” 

Candace Peixes was an imposing figure, even sitting down at her opulent, carved-and-imported desk. The wirey man with a streak of purple through his hair and the stink of bathtub-brewed cologne on his Everything sitting on the left of the door? He...was less so. The large woman stood, face completely devoid of any emotion as she spoke offhandedly about the fact that her daughter was alive. “I see you’ve made your way here. Meenah sent a message ahead that you were coming, and told me the amount to pay your guard...who I see you brought with you. She’ll be paid appropriately, both for the safe delivery and for the death of that raider Meenah wanted dealt with. Now…” A joyful tint snuck into her voice, one that was completely artificial. “You remember Eridan, don’t you? The young man that was rising through the ranks of the White Glove society?” Nepeta wanted to clock the guy by the way his smug smirk curled over his lips.

Feferi let go of her hand in that moment, putting on an act of naivete as she responded-fingertip on the corner of her mouth, eyes turned up as she pretended to think really-really hard about it. 

“Hmmm...you mean the ugly beanpole of a man who you want me to marry so you can have an in-road to the White Glove society and try to get them to think our seafood is high quality enough for their pompous dickhole tastes, a man who’s acted entitled and awful towards me for the entire time I’ve known him and whom I’ve wanted to do  _ this _ to for years without knowing how?”

Eridan stood, the look on his face a twisted visage of rage and offense as he took a step towards Feferi. “WWHAT THE  _ FUCK _ DID YOU JUST-”

But then, acting on the moves Nepeta had taught her, Feferi dropped down, sweeping her right leg at Eridan’s ankles. His entitled rage was interrupted by confusion, and then pain as Feferi performed a one-inch-punch to his descending face, knocking him back and knocking him out in an instant. Instead of asking something reasonable like “WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING THIS DUDE”, Candace Peixes slammed both hands down on her desk, snarling like a Yao Guai on Psycho. 

“And  **WHAT** , young lady, do you think you’re doing?!”

Feferi stood, squaring her chest and thumping her fist against it proudly. “Coming out! Because guess what?! I’m a massive lesbian and I’m in love with the super cute butch Courier!”

Nepeta pumped her fist, darting in to give her girl a loving kiss on the cheek before hopping back and letting her have her moment. 

“And I don’t fucking care about your business! I don’t give a fuck about you! I’m gonna go marry this amazing girl and we’re gonna be wanderers in the wasteland, fixing every problem we find and kicking ass while doing it!  _ AND YOU CAN EAT MY ASS IF YOU WANNA TRY AND STOP ME!! _ ” Feferi threw both hands out, flipping off her mother as Nepeta picked her up bridal style. In unison, they gave Candace the final word. 

“ _ SEA _ YA LATER, PUSSYCAT!” 

And as they sauntered out together, laughing and giggling, Candace Peixes groaned and sank back into her chair. Eridan slowly stood, rubbing his face and grunting. 

“The fuck just happened…?”

“Shut d’fuck up before I waste your ass you pathetic, pasty little freak.  **SOMEONE GET ME SOME FUCKIN’ WHISKEY BEFORE I DECIDE TO START VENTING MY FRUSTRATIONS THROUGH BRUTAL VIOLENCE** .” 

A week or so later, Candace was arrested by the NCR due to an investigation lead by an idiot mailman that got shot in the head once, in a questline you never found because you’re bad at video games. Nepeta and Feferi got married a year after that in Novac, and eventually bought a nice little house out in the wastes to settle down in when it came time to settle. But until then, they planned to wander...as the Catfish Kids.

They were uh…

They were working on that name. 


End file.
